Love equally? I guess so.

When my sister and I were little, we competed for my mother's attention like rabid dogs. "Who do you love more?" we asked her incessantly. "I love you both equally," she replied unfailingly and always with a mysterious smile.

My sister and I used our mother's love as a way to fight with each other. "Mom loves me more than she loves you," one of us would tell the other to win an argument. If one of us had a bad day and we were actually getting along, that love we fought over got used as a consolation prize. "Well, at least you're Mom's favorite," we reassured each other.

Secretly, though, I knew the honor of favorite child went to my sister. After all, she was the good one who knew always how to say the right thing. I, on the other hand, always seemed to stick my foot in my mouth. Mom still insists she never had a favorite, and I'm starting to see that maybe I was just a wee bit wrong.

As the mother of three very different cats, I feel my heart swell with pride whenever one of them approaches for a cuddle or turns her nose up at food, but for different reasons with each cat. Ben, my first and oldest baby, was a typical Humane Society kitten. He came with the usual fleas, ear mites and respiratory infection of most shelter cats.

Ben surprised everyone, though, when his little kitty cold turned into full-fledged pneumonia a few days later. It took both my roommate at the time and me to feed Ben three times a day with the syringe from the vet and cram his pills down his throat. We had a party at which everyone took turns holding and comforting poor, sick Ben.

Of course the story has a happy ending. After two long weeks, Ben recovered and grew into the cat that he is today. Perhaps because of his childhood ordeals, Ben nurtures other rescues.

I love him because whenever I've fostered another cat, Ben brings the pathetic creature his favorite toys, carried in his mouth like dead mouse presents. I love Ben because he remains consistently generous, and because he pooped on the floor once when my first serious boyfriend returned to get his stuff after moving out.

Above all, though, I love Ben because he was my first. I never meant to have more than one cat, but Sasha came next. In my early college years, I often behaved foolishly but not like the other kids. I learned my lesson when I invited a homeless man to stay in my apartment.

He came over carrying a terrified white kitten in a cat carrier, and he had no food or litter for her. It only took me two days to kick the guy out, but I convinced him to leave the cat with me. Somebody must have abused Sasha, because she cowered and hid for hours when I said no. Once she learned I wasn't going to hit her or kick her around, she thought she could get away with murder.

My houseplants still haven't recovered from Sasha's kittenhood five years ago. Although she's made considerable progress, I love Sasha because she's still so challenging. She often bites visitors who dare to pet her, and she vocalizes her every complaint. But she's fiercely loyal.

I love her because she protects me when she thinks I'm in trouble. Once she even attacked a boyfriend when I yelped while being tickled. I love Sasha because she's disguised as a fluffy white calendar cat, but is really scrappy and street smart. I love Sasha because of all the work that has gone into making our relationship, on both our parts. Most importantly, I love her for learning to trust her Mama.

Jake the Girl came last and less than a month ago. She was feral and took two weeks to lure inside. I never meant to keep her, but accidents happen, as my cats will attest. Jake and I don't know each other very well yet, but I love her already (probably from the first day). She is amazingly polite and deferential to the other cats, but she's learning quickly how to still be nice and not get pushed around.

She pulls amazing collar-removing and carrier-escaping stunts that make me believe she's brilliant. As a mostly black, mottled tortoiseshell, Jake isn't what you'd call pretty to look at. But she has the greenest eyes and the profile of an Egyptian temple cat, and at times appears absolutely stunning.

I love Jake because she is so new and vulnerable. When my babies get jealous of the special alone time each of them gets with me, I remind them that their Mama loves them all equally. Although I love them all differently and treat them according to how I perceive their needs, I couldn't possible rank how they stack up in my heart.

Funny how six years ago I never would have thought that possible, but apparently my mother knew what she was talking about. Thanks, Mom.